Friday, March 26, 2010
fuer die Kaetze
Today in the Arthritis Pool Exercise Class, a 90-year-old lady said,
I'm flying to Chicago for Thanksgiving, and they probably will charge me extra for being an 'old bag'!- Jean Wilcox
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
not a pretty site
David Marshall-Martin was delighted to read the AAP wire service report on 28 February about the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras:
Many were disappointed they couldn't penetrate the thong of onlookers.In an article by Michelle Hanson in the Guardian on 5 March:
If the government are considering competency tests for dog owners, I say go for it - and compulsory microchipping, neutering, third-party insurance.All very good, but what about the dogs?
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
modern departure in style
AUTO: yyyyy xxxxxxx/UK/IBM is out of the office FOREVER (returning 01/01/2015)
I am out of the office until 01/01/2015.
I have taken early retirement from IBM so you won't get a reply to your e-mail. xxxxxxx@googlemail.com is my private e-mail if it's a non IBM related e-mail please get in touch...
yyyyy signing off from IBM...
Note: This is an automated response to your message "zzzzzzzzz" sent on 5/3/10 18:03:48.
This is the only notification you will receive while this person is away.
obviously machines have a different view of forever than we do
Thank God for Warm Blankets
When a doctor looks you straight in the eye and says,"You have cancer," time stops. In that instant you know that things will never again be the same. From then on there will be the "before" and the "now".
In my "now" there have been many changes, among them a heightened awareness of the little things I am thankful for on a daily basis. Today I am thankful for warm blankets!
This phase of my treatment is called "stem cell collection" and entails about four hours a day on a blood machine. It's totally painless, you just lie on a bed all plumbed up and watch tv, read, or nap. The machine pumps all of the blood in your body through it three times during the treatment, and in the process the blood going back in your body is cooler so you tend to get cold. Hence the wonderful, warm blankets they bring you.
You can have as many as you want, and they feel indescribably good.
I guess blankets must be some sort of natural comfort in life. My four-year-old grandson has a great blanket called his "Elmo" after the character printed on the fabric. Well, actually, he has several Elmos, because when we saw how attached he was to it, doting grandparents bought three or four of them and stashed them around so he would never be without one. Elmo is a fixture in the extended family, and I realize now how important our Elmos are.
The warm blankets at the hospital are certainly nice, but what is more important is the statement they made when offered the first time without my asking.
It said to me, "We understand what you're going through. We really do, and we want to do everything we can to make you as comfortable as possible."
Which led me to think about the other blankets I comfort myself with, and wrapped in which I feel secure: the love of family and friends, the encouragement of co-workers, the well-wishes that come by phone and internet each day, and the smiles of understanding from those you encounter at the hospital.
I will never again take for granted the phrases "I'm thinking about you" or "I'm praying for you." People really mean it when they say it. You can feel it when it's your time of need, the positive force field around you that helps you through the next step of the journey. An invisible cloak, which despite being unseen is far from unfelt and shelters you from the coldness life sometimes brings.
Thank God for warm blankets. Of every type. At every age. - Jim Berry [is fighting the good fight against the big C. 2010Mar13 3pm he goes 'out with the old' in getting rid of the remaining cancer cells and 'in with the new' (actually harvested stem cells) at 1pm Mar15.
In my "now" there have been many changes, among them a heightened awareness of the little things I am thankful for on a daily basis. Today I am thankful for warm blankets!
This phase of my treatment is called "stem cell collection" and entails about four hours a day on a blood machine. It's totally painless, you just lie on a bed all plumbed up and watch tv, read, or nap. The machine pumps all of the blood in your body through it three times during the treatment, and in the process the blood going back in your body is cooler so you tend to get cold. Hence the wonderful, warm blankets they bring you.
You can have as many as you want, and they feel indescribably good.
I guess blankets must be some sort of natural comfort in life. My four-year-old grandson has a great blanket called his "Elmo" after the character printed on the fabric. Well, actually, he has several Elmos, because when we saw how attached he was to it, doting grandparents bought three or four of them and stashed them around so he would never be without one. Elmo is a fixture in the extended family, and I realize now how important our Elmos are.
The warm blankets at the hospital are certainly nice, but what is more important is the statement they made when offered the first time without my asking.
It said to me, "We understand what you're going through. We really do, and we want to do everything we can to make you as comfortable as possible."
Which led me to think about the other blankets I comfort myself with, and wrapped in which I feel secure: the love of family and friends, the encouragement of co-workers, the well-wishes that come by phone and internet each day, and the smiles of understanding from those you encounter at the hospital.
I will never again take for granted the phrases "I'm thinking about you" or "I'm praying for you." People really mean it when they say it. You can feel it when it's your time of need, the positive force field around you that helps you through the next step of the journey. An invisible cloak, which despite being unseen is far from unfelt and shelters you from the coldness life sometimes brings.
Thank God for warm blankets. Of every type. At every age. - Jim Berry [is fighting the good fight against the big C. 2010Mar13 3pm he goes 'out with the old' in getting rid of the remaining cancer cells and 'in with the new' (actually harvested stem cells) at 1pm Mar15.
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